


Cruel Intentions

by MyThoughtBubbles



Series: Ethics become Aesthetics [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Amnesiac Iruka, Dark Hatake Kakashi, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gaslighting, Hannibal inspired, Hatake Kakashi Being an Asshole, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mental Coercion, Psychological Drama, Retrograde Amnesia, Seriously someone save Iruka, Sexual Tension, Twisted love, someone save Iruka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26784349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyThoughtBubbles/pseuds/MyThoughtBubbles
Summary: Tsunade closes in on him, her face livid. “I swear to the Gods, Kakashi, if you’re here assaulting my patients, I’m going to skin—”“Hardly an assault since we’re together,” Kakashi interrupts, the fragile strands of a newwhy notweaving together, enticing him with the high stakes it entails. Low-grade excitement pools in his blood; every gamble has its risks but the mere possibility of the reward, nurtured by a plethora of intricately spun fantasies, is enough to tip the proverbial scale.“You—” Tsunade blinks twice.Kakashi hooks his fingers with Iruka’s limp ones and gently rubs his thumb across the back of Iruka’s hand. “We’re not public. Not yet, anyway. We agreed it was for the best.” As an afterthought, Kakashi modifies his slouch into the guise of bone-deep weariness; the epitome of a concerned lover.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Series: Ethics become Aesthetics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917598
Comments: 42
Kudos: 260





	1. Why Not

**Author's Note:**

> oh shit, back at it again

“That may have been impulsive.”

—Hannibal Lecter, _Hannibal_

In the end, it’s the simple premise of _why not_ that convinces Kakashi. It’d be a shame to lose the opportunity.

With that, Kakashi leaves the hospital’s discharge center and saunters down the hall, snatching a medical chart from the chatty medical-nins on his way.

Locating the room in the east wing, Kakashi sneaks in and eyes Iruka’s unconscious form, a humorless smile pulling his cheeks tight. Iruka is asleep, a thick swathe of bandages wrapped around his forehead and skull. The skin of his face is tight and swollen, obviously tender from a bout of intense chakra healing. Scrutinizing the rest of his body, Kakashi can see no other injuries.

He flips open Iruka’s medical chart and skims for the diagnosis: _likely acute retrograde amnesia. Chakra-mediated global trauma to the medial temporal cortex, the parahippocampal cortices, inflammation of the perirhinal cortices…. No other evidence of physical trauma._

All resulting in a conveniently induced coma.

Kakashi tosses the chart aside and lazily approaches the bed. “Looking a little rough, sensei,” he snickers. “Hard day at the Academy?” He thumbs off a smudge of ink from the healing seals on Iruka’s cheek, dragging the pad of his thumb down until it catches the corner of Iruka’s bottom lip.

Kakashi tuts. “Poor little Iruka, all alone and helpless. It’s too bad you’re not awake for this.” He pauses thoughtfully. “No, it’s better. You won’t run away this time.” He tugs his mask down and leans in, his pulse notching up a degree.

“ _Kakashi!”_

Ah, oops.

Kakashi looks up, mildly unsettled that he hadn’t registered Tsunade’s entrance. He eases into a harmless slouch and keeps his hands visible but within reach of his weapons pouch. “Yes,” he drawls.

Tsunade closes in on him, her face livid. “I swear to the Gods, Kakashi, if you’re here assaulting my patients, I’m going to skin—”

“Hardly an assault since we’re together,” Kakashi interrupts, the fragile strands of a new _why not_ weaving together, enticing him with the high stakes it entails. Low-grade excitement pools in his blood; every gamble has its risks but the mere possibility of the reward, nurtured by a plethora of intricately spun fantasies, is enough to tip the proverbial scale.

“You—” Tsunade blinks twice.

Kakashi hooks his fingers with Iruka’s limp ones and gently rubs his thumb across the back of Iruka’s hand. “We’re not public. Not yet, anyway. We agreed it was for the best.” As an afterthought, Kakashi modifies his slouch into the guise of bone-deep weariness; the epitome of a concerned lover.

Tsunade takes a moment to orient herself and crosses her arms. “....you’re not joking? Far be it from me to be involved in the love lives of my shinobi, but you and Iruka-sensei? Really?”

Kakashi lifts a shoulder. “Not sure how it happened myself,” he says, artfully self-deprecating.

“Well, then, congratulations.” She turns to Iruka. “He was brought in by the sentries — we think he may have had a run-in with some rogue nins from the west. It’s bad, but it could’ve been worse. We’ve brought down most of the swelling and stitched him back together. Prior to inducing the coma, he couldn’t remember the attack. Iruka was displaying symptoms indicative of retrograde amnesia. We tried to get a gauge on the extent, but he gave mixed answers so the timeline is shoddy and Inoichi didn’t want to push and risk causing further stress to his system.” She pauses. “How long have you been together?”

“Approximately a year and a half.” He wonders where the number came from.

“Ah. A while, then.” Kakashi enjoys the weight of the silence that follows and Tsunade shifts uncomfortably. “Look, brat, there’s no guarantee of the amnesia being permanent. It might have sorted itself out by the time we wake him. We simply don’t know what to expect. He may not remember you outright, but he may feel some sort of connection. We’ve seen similar cases…” She trails off.

“When will he be brought out?”

“We’ll keep him under for another week or so, monitoring his vitals. Once he’s stable, we’ll bring him out and assess from there.”

Kakashi dips his chin. He has a week to work with; the prospect leaves him almost giddy. “Health-wise, he’ll be okay?”

“He may need some physical therapy but nothing more.”

“Thank you.”

Tsunade clasps his shoulder sympathetically. “Kakashi, fill out a Leave of Absence form. Go home and get some rest, you’re still fresh from your own mission. I’ll leave Iruka’s care in the hands of my most trusted medical-nins and you can visit tomorrow. He’ll be okay, I promise you.”

She leaves and Kakashi listens to her retreating footsteps.

He hums pensively. “Well this should be fun.” He sits down and props his elbow up on the bed, tucking his chin into his palm. He taps Iruka’s arm. “Oi sensei, how long will it take for you to fall for me?”

* * *

Two years ago, Iruka had only just warmed up to him, courtesy of Naruto’s insistence on joint dinners at Ichiraku’s after endless C and D-rank missions. The clash at the chuunin exam admissions had soured their nonexistent relationship and ever since, Kakashi firmly believed that Iruka had made it his life's goal to piss him off, always bitching, always lecturing, always _annoying_ him.

Two years ago, Kakashi began having vivid daydreams of bending Iruka over to shut him up. Anger and lust made a powerful combination and Kakashi remains in awe of his own restraint. All that’s necessary is a spark and things get volatile _._

One year ago, after the annual Christmas party, he’d had his tongue down Iruka’s vodka-tinged throat and Iruka’s ass in his hands; all-in-all a fan- _fucking_ -tastic time until Iruka struck a moment of clarity and bolted. Kakashi can count on one of Ibiki’s hands the number of times they’ve spoken afterwards.

Really, Kakashi thinks, it’s all Iruka’s fault. This was set in motion years ago, and Kakashi is nothing if not a man of opportunity.

With ease, Kakashi picks the lock to Iruka’s flat and disables his wards; on a whim, he plants his own wards and enters. Par for the course, Iruka’s home is a one bedroom flat in the chuunin barracks, modest by jounin standards and claustrophobic by Hatake compound standards.

Charm oozes from every stuffed bookcase, scuffed piece of furniture, and little potted plant. Penmarked school assignments litter the kitchen table and a few dishes are neatly placed out to dry. The living room is equally as tiny and cozy with a couch eating up most of the space in front of the TV. Kakashi can perfectly visualize Iruka puttering around his flat, studiously grading an assignment with ink smudged on his nose, happily sipping tea in his kitchen, watching the sunrise out on the balcony...

Kakashi is mildly disgusted at the yearning that builds in his chest; he dispels it and welcomes the urge to disrupt the homely atmosphere, to ruin it and see Iruka’s reaction. He can already hear the shouting — only, that's counterproductive when the goal is to have Iruka fall head-over-heels for him.

“Tsk.”

He tosses down a summoning scroll and quickly sets to work infiltrating every square foot of Iruka’s home with his own belongings. His mugs in the cupboards, his toothbrush in the bathroom, ninken treats in the panty; he’d much prefer to bring Iruka to the compound, but until Iruka wholly trusts him, they’ll have to stay somewhere Iruka qualifies as safe and familiar. Annoying but necessary.

As he mixes their laundry and throws one of his socks beneath the sofa, Kakashi thinks back to Iruka in his hospital bed. He isn’t particularly concerned about the physical injuries — Tsunade’s healed him from worse. The unpredictability of Iruka’s memory, however, will require constant monitoring. Should Iruka forget, Kakashi’s in the clear and will live a happy man. Should Iruka remember, he’s royally fucked.

He shrugs off the thought as quickly as it comes; he’ll think of something. He has plenty of jutsus to pull from if necessary.

Absently, he checks his pocket for Iruka’s last mission scroll and the report on the rogue nins. He’ll make sure his gratitude is the last thing they hear.

* * *

Iruka’s face is noticeably less swollen.

Fresh bandages weave in and out of his hair and Kakashi tries to tame the flyaways. “You better thank me for this when you wake up, you little shit. Why is your shampoo so expensive?” Expensive as it was, Iruka’s hair, despite being a tad greasy, felt fantastic. _Just as it did a year ago._ Kakashi holds back from grabbing a handful and yanking.

Instead, he takes up his post next to Iruka’s bed, swaps their hitai-ate, and prods Iruka’s cheek. “Your landlord came by. Did you know your lease was about to expire? No worries, your loving….boyfriend? Partner? Fuck buddy?” He grins. “Oi sensei, what are we?” At Iruka’s lack of reaction, he feels a twinge of disappointment. He frowns. “Either way, I’m on the lease now and have been for the last year. I own your flat and thus, I own you,” he whispers. “Check the paperwork if you don’t believe me.”

Much to his annoyance, the door flies open and a nurse enters with a squeaky cart. She jolts when she sees Kakashi. “Kakashi-san, what a surprise! I didn’t see your name on the visitor’s log.”

“That’s because I dropped by through the window,” Kakashi says dryly.

The nurse looks confused and Kakashi doesn’t offer clarification. Disregarding his reply, she glances at the convenience store bag at his feet, Iruka’s shampoo bottles peeking out. “Oh, did you bring those for Iruka-sensei? Are you here to help with his bath?”

Kakashi blinks. He smiles. “Yes, actually. I brought something familiar. Thought it might help.”

“Great! We can get started immediately.”

The nurse strips off the bed sheets and Iruka’s hospital gown, leaving him in the scratchy hospital-issued boxers. Kakashi greedily takes the sight in as he rolls his sleeves up. She fills an inflatable basin with water and shoves a rag into Kakashi’s hands. “Be gentle, raw skin is more susceptible to bed sores. And there'll be no funny business— this is strictly a bath.”

“Of course.”

Amused, Kakashi drags the soapy rag up Iruka’s thigh, mindful of his boxers. His thoughts, left to their own devices in the mind-numbing silence, descend into depravity. Distinctly, he recalls the feel of Iruka’s body beneath his hands as Iruka tried to climb him in the darkness of the alleyway after shoving him into a wall, surprisingly and pleasantly aggressive. Kakashi twitches and digs his thumbs into supple muscle. He lifts Iruka’s leg and scrubs behind his knee and up his hamstring. The curve of Iruka’s ass peeks out and Kakashi promptly drops Iruka’s leg. He switches sides and notes a trio of freckles beneath the swell of Iruka’s right cheek.

The nurse finishes shampooing Iruka’s hair and hands Kakashi a few terrycloth towels. “Dry him off. I’ll be right back.” She scurries away, humming to herself.

Kakashi looks at the towels and then at Iruka. “When you thank me later, you’ll be on your knees.”

* * *

Hands drop heavily on Kakashi’s shoulders and he stumbles mid-step.

“Kakashi,” Gai booms, “what’s this I hear about you visiting someone in the hospital?” Grabbing fistfuls of Kakashi’s flak jacket, Gai drags him to the side of the street, over to a canopy of trees where he leans in to shout in Kakashi’s ear. “You’ve never visited anyone in the hospital.”

“I’ve visited you,” Kakashi remarks, leaning away slightly.

Gai ignores him. “Several jounin mentioned having seen you hanging around in a chuunin’s room.” He waggles his eyebrows. “A particular chuunin we both know you have a history with. One that you’ve mentioned begrudgingly in the past.”

“Well, you see—”

“One that you had a passionate moment with after the Christmas party and that you’ve never forgotten.”

“How many people coul—”

“Is it Iruka-sensei?” Gai shakes him again. “It’s Iruka-sensei, right? I knew it!”

Kakashi wards off another shake. “I haven’t—”

“Ha! Finally, the great Copy Nin finds love, and with Iruka-sensei no less!”

Kakashi sweeps the street and notices several eavesdroppers popping up and glancing over. A few more should do. “That’s a little early—”

“Who better to keep you in line?” Gai laughs, the sound almost shaking the trees. “What great news!”

“Oi, I’m better suited to reining _him_ in than—”

“Aha! A perfect match.” Gai yanks him into a hug and Kakashi pats him back, more amused than anything. “Kakashi, this is wonderful, I’m so happy for you. May your future be blessed with happiness and good fortune.”

“Thanks, Gai.”

Gai tilts his head and taps Kakashi’s hitai-ate. “That’s not yours...how amazingly romantic! How long have you been together? How have you never told me, your greatest rival?”

“Iruka likes privacy.” Kakashi grins. “He can get shy.”

“Ah, youthful passion! I can smell it in the air, the sweet scent of love and desire surrounds you.” Gai offers Kakashi another bone-crushing hug.

“All I smell is yakitori,” Kakashi wheezes. It isn’t a lie - the shop down the road is offering specials. Kakashi briefly wonders if Iruka likes yakitori and if he should buy some—

“Yakitori! Let’s celebrate the love between you and Iruka-sensei!” Gai’s arm anchors around Kakashi’s shoulders and Kakashi mildly resists his kidnapping, digging his heels in as Gai pulls him down the road.

Gai’s voice drops into a low murmur. “I’m happy but I have a concern, Kakashi.”

Kakashi tries to gauge his face from his awkward position. “Yes?”

“Is it true poor Iruka-sensei was attacked within Fire Country’s borders?” Gai’s gaze darts around. “Kurenai heard he lost his memory.” Kakashi gives a curt nod and Gai’s face darkens. “Has there been any success in finding out which faction attacked him? And to what purpose?”

“Tenzou is looking into it. I can’t leave Iruka alone right now.”

Gai nods solemnly. “I’ll be ready when you need me.”

* * *

Kakashi props his feet up on the edge of Iruka’s bed.

“I’ve been thinking about our relationship,” he begins airily as he twirls a kunai dexterously between his fingers. “Specifically, how we ended up together and the events following. I’ve chosen which one we’ll go with, but you’re free to argue your case.” He shoots Iruka a wink, flips the kunai, and chucks it into the door frame. “Obviously, everyone knows we’re both Naruto’s guardians, so we can say we naturally drifted towards each other due to our paternal roles.” Kakashi grins. “That one’s easier for you to swallow because it’s so boring.”

Another kunai joins the first.

“Option two: we’re both lonely men with no familial ties or obligations and we _just have that chemistry._ Cue the romance and a sizzling tryst that’s only revealed after one of us suffered a devastating injury during a dangerous mission.”

A third kunai _thunks_ into the frame.

“Option three: we were sent on a mission together and something about a suspension bridge and then we fucked.” Kakashi scratches his chin. “Though, I’d have to fake the paperwork for that, so maybe not.”

The fourth kunai is embedded deeper than the rest.

“Option four: you seduced me, ran away, and then pretended like nothing happened and I’ve been pissed ever since. That one’s less fun because it’s true.”

He leans over the bed, inches from Iruka’s face. “Make your case, sensei, we’ll be telling this story for ages.” He waits a beat. “No arguing? Thought not.” Kakashi drops a kiss on Iruka’s temple and links their fingers. “For the sake of simplicity, and my generous nature, we can go with the first option. Your chuunin friends have already fallen for it.”

* * *

Two days go by and Kakashi finds his distaste for hospitals reaching its threshold. He reaches into his pocket and digs out a coin. “Heads or tails?” he offers Iruka and flicks his thumb. “Tails.” Pleased, he rises to his feet.

He slips an arm beneath Iruka’s knees and the other around his back and lifts him from the bed. He props a foot up on the window ledge and gazes out into the night as he cradles Iruka closely.

“Isn’t this romantic,” he says mockingly. “You’re in my arms, it’s a warm summer night, the moon is out, I’m breaking you out of the hospital...a decent first date, really. I’ll even walk you home.” He nuzzles the crown of Iruka’s head, glad the bandages are finally gone. “Hold on tight or I’ll drop you,” he whispers.

With a powerful push, he leaps across the rooftops and soars through the night. Absently, he thinks the moonlight complements Iruka pleasantly.

* * *

Once safely in Iruka’s flat, Kakashi dumps Iruka not unkindly onto the bed and checks the time. He hazards that they only have a few minutes.

“It’s all about the tiny insignificant details,” Kakashi instructs, clinically stripping off Iruka’s hospital gown and socks, taking each leg and shoving them through a pair of Kakashi’s own sleep pants. “You might not notice the stray sock here and there or the bloody shirt forgotten under the bed. An old mission scroll with a henohenomoheji that’s fallen behind the tv, the mismatched pair of sandals by the doorway; you might not notice that you’ve put on the wrong pants — but that’s normal when you’re in a relationship. Intertwined lives, imprints of each other everywhere and on everything.”

He pulls a loose t-shirt over Iruka’s head, tucks him beneath the sheets, and places a damp towel on his forehead that’s more for show than anything. “Only a single conclusion to draw, impossible to deny.” His eyes dart towards the direction of the front door. “I think we have company.”

* * *

Tsunade jabs her finger towards the chair in the corner of the bedroom. “ _Sit. Down._ ”

Kakashi obliges. “Did you have to send ANBU—”

“ _Hatake Kakashi, shut the fuck up or I’ll put you in a hospital bed of your own._ What were you thinking?! _”_

“I think it’s pretty clear what I was thinking. I—” He braces his weight on the balls of his feet as Iruka’s bed frame cracks ominously beneath Tsunade’s hands.

“Quiet! How are you a jounin?! How is kidnapping Iruka helping anything?” Tsunade digs her fingers into her temples and closes her eyes. “I swear, you and Naruto are going to be the death of me. Look, I get it. You want him back, that much is obvious.” She glances around the room. “It’s also obvious that you two do have a history.”

Kakashi waits impatiently for her to get to the point.

“We’ve discussed this before, but I’d like to reiterate it for my own peace of mind and in light of your stupid, lovesick idiocy. You do realize that Iruka may have no recollection of your relationship? You _cannot_ under any circumstance push him into remembering. His mind is in a delicate state right now and any missteps could genuinely cost him his memory. That includes trying to pressure him into anything.”

“Are you suggesting I’d—”

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Tsunade thunders. “I’m warning you.”

Kakashi offers Tsunade a carefully curated look of despair. “Right now, the only thing I care about is Iruka being comfortable and safe, which means being home where I can watch over him. If he doesn’t remember, I’ll deal. The least I can do is help him get back on his feet. Nothing more.”

“You fool.” Tsunade shakes her head and throws her hands up. “Fine. _Fine_. Seeing as you haven’t fucked up his healing, I’ll allow him to stay.” She heads out into the hallway and snaps her fingers, a few ANBU materializing in her wake. “I’ll drop by tomorrow to wake him, and if _anything is wrong,_ I’m taking him back and letting Ibiki have his way with you,” she calls back.

Kakashi bows graciously and doesn’t move until he’s absolutely sure the squad of ANBU have retreated. Adrenaline surges into his blood and he straightens.

“And then there were two.” He laughs softly. “I figured this would be easy, but it’s almost comical.” Kakashi slowly undoes his flak jacket and lets it fall away, his shirt following suit. “You’re completely at my mercy, sensei.”

He kicks off his pants and leaves himself in only his boxer briefs. After a quick visit to the bathroom, he climbs in besides Iruka and tugs him into place; Iruka’s back pressed to his chest, Kakashi’s arm around his waist. “Don’t worry, I won’t touch you. It’s no fun unless you’re begging for it,” he murmurs against the nape of Iruka’s neck.

In the morning, he swaps Iruka’s bedsheets and pillowcases for his own and disposes of Iruka’s. “The ninken will appreciate how much you reek of me,” Kakashi says as he rearranges Iruka’s position, indulging in caressing exposed patches of skin here and there. “You’ll learn to take comfort in it, too.”

* * *

Iruka comes to with a slow inhale. “Nngh.”

Dialing in his role, Kakashi smoothly inserts himself between Iruka and Tsunade and clasps Iruka’s hand in both of his. “Welcome back, sensei,” he says softly, the relief in his voice only partially exaggerated.

Iruka responds with a drawn out moan, sweat building at his temples. _“Fuck…hurts.”_

“No shit, you did take a nasty hit to the head.”

“Can you — out of my way, brat.” Tsunade shoves Kakashi aside and pats Iruka’s cheek. “Iruka I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that? Can you lift your head?”

Iruka’s eyelids flutter and his body tenses but he doesn’t move. _“...can’t.”_

“Okay, hold on.” Tsunade pushes back his eyelids. Iruka’s pupils are unevenly constricted and dilated. “Anisocoria. Typical of TBIs. Iruka, try not to move.”

Kakashi watches on curiously as she dumps more healing chakra into Iruka’s head, the green glow clashing with Iruka’s skin tone. Eventually, Iruka’s pained grimace lightens and his eyes crack open. Other than looking pale and worn out, Kakashi is glad Iruka looks mostly normal. “How’re you feeling?” he asks, moving to the other side of the bed.

“Fine?” Iruka rasps. “What happened?” Looking at Tsunade, he tries to sit up and is caught by Kakashi when his arms falter and collapse.

“Careful,” Kakashi mutters. He adjusts the pillows for back support and Iruka sends him a grateful smile. Kakashi smiles back, nothing kind in the gesture.

“We think you had a run in with some rogue nins outside of Konoha’s borders. The civilians that found you only caught glimpses of them. Can you remember anything?”

Iruka shakes his head and immediately winces. “I don’t even remember heading outside of Konoha. This is my Academy rotation, I’m not on the roster for missions.”

“Well shit.” Tsunade blows out a breath. “That’s exactly what you said the last time we had this conversation. Your memory is still impaired.”

Iruka frowns and his eyes leap between Kakashi and Tsunade. “My memory? Are...are you sure?” He pales further.

Kakashi figures that’s his cue and rubs Iruka’s arm soothingly. “Oi, calm down. Concussive damage can result in amnesia, it’s not uncommon. It’ll be alright.”

Confusion breaks through Iruka’s worry and he glances down at Kakashi’s hand. “Kakashi-san—”

“Iruka, how old are you?”

He turns back to Tsunade, distracted. “Twenty-six. My birthday was a few weeks ago.”

Kakashi sucks in an audible breath and sends an alarmed look at Tsunade. “Fuck. Two years?”

“I told you it was likely.” Tsunade grimaces. “You knew what to expect.”

“I didn’t think he’d forget _everything._ ”

“What?” Iruka interrupts desperately. “What did I forget?”

“You forgot about me,” Kakashi says plaintively.

Iruka blinks. _“What?”_

* * *

If Iruka’s eyes weren’t open and eyeing Kakashi’s additions to their bedroom, Kakashi would’ve thought he was sleeping considering how oddly quiet he’s been acting. Most of his color returned in the few hours after Tsunade left, but he’s remained incredibly weak. Kakashi suspects it’s mere stubbornness that’s keeping him awake. He sets a glass of water on Iruka’s bed stand with a few painkillers.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Better, thanks,” Iruka mutters, avoiding his eyes.

“You should get some rest.”

“I will.”

“I’ll be in the other room.” Kakashi nods and starts to leave.

Iruka intentionally clears his throat and Kakashi is already grinning. “Kakashi-san.”

He turns and offers Iruka a rueful smile. _“Kakashi.”_

“ _Kakashi-san._ While I’m grateful for your help, I think it’s best if you go.”

“I don’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” Iruka says firmly. “I’ll manage.”

“No you won’t.”

A spark of irritation flashes across Iruka’s face and he finally meets Kakashi’s gaze. “I don’t need any more help. Besides, I’m going to take some time to digest everything and I’d like to be alone.”

“About that. We’ve been living together for the past year.” He feels a sadistic thrill at the tick in Iruka’s jaw.

“Oh for fu—. Right.” Iruka waves vaguely towards the dresser with a number of Kakashi’s weapons and scrolls. “Explains all that.”

Kakashi raises an eyebrow. “Is it really so hard to believe?”

“Honestly? Yes.”

“At least you’re honest. Why?”

Iruka shoots him a dry look. “Kakashi-san, you’re not my type. We don’t get along. It doesn’t make sense.”

Not his type? Kakashi has a solid memory of why _that’s a fucking lie._ “Do you want to know—”

“ _No, I’d rather not.”_ At Kakashi’s raised hands, he amends. “Sorry. Not right now. I’m still...processing everything.”

Kakashi opts for concerned compassion. “Allow me to clarify something.” He drops to a knee beside the bed, putting them at eye level. For added effect, he tugs down his mask and takes Iruka’s hand in his, thumbing Iruka’s pulse. Immediately, Iruka’s eyes widen and Kakashi feels the spike in his heart rate.

“Regardless of our history, I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable around me,” Kakashi says intensely, pouring in a fair degree of charm he reserves for missions. “I’m just glad you’re home, safe and sound.” Boldly, knowing Iruka’s reaction time is nonexistent, he plants a chaste kiss on Iruka’s forehead and retreats. “I’ll take the sofa tonight. Go to sleep.”

He savors the shock on Iruka’s face as he closes the bedroom door.

* * *

Kakashi grits his teeth, familiar irritation crawling beneath his skin. He might’ve overestimated his own charm or underestimated Iruka’s obstinance; either way, he’s seriously contemplating knocking Iruka back out. “You’ll drop it.”

“No I won’t. Give me the spoon.”

“You’re being stubborn, just let me—”

“ _Kakashi-san, give me the damn spoon._ ”

Kakashi holds out his hand, the veins on his forearm prominent. “Take it. If you can.”

With fire in his eyes, Iruka shakily grabs the handle. He makes a valiant effort to scoop up some broth from the bowl in Kakashi’s hands but the brief surge of energy leaves as quickly as it arrives. His hand drops limply into his lap and Iruka bites his lower lip. “I’m actually not hungry.”

“Really.” Kakashi retrieves the spoon. “You’re finishing this bowl.”

“I’m not hungry,” Iruka growls and turns away.

Kakashi tongues one of his canines and the exposed skin of his cheeks itches. “You’re being an idiot, you have to eat.”

“And you’re being a self-assured asshole,” Iruka snaps back. “I said I’m not hungry.”

“You’re going to eat, don’t make me force you,” Kakashi warns. “Your choice.”

Iruka’s glare turns icy. _“You wouldn’t.”_

“Alright. You brought this on yourself.” Kakashi sets the bowl on the table and straddles Iruka’s legs in one smooth move.

Iruka shrinks back into his pillows, entirely caged in. “O-oi, Kakashi—”

Kakashi scoops a spoonful of broth. “Open wide.” He grabs Iruka’s chin and forces his mouth open. Keeping his fingers out of biting distance, he manages to feed Iruka most of the broth despite Iruka’s feeble attempts to escape. Immensely satisfied, he pulls back and eyes Iruka’s teary, furious glare and disheveled hair. His cheeks burn red, pale where Kakashi’s fingers had been.

“There. Wasn’t so bad.” He manages not to smile.

“You fucking jackass! You’re such a—”

“—if you weren’t so fucking stubborn—”

“—not even hungry—”

“—tried to be nice, but—”

“Gods, I can’t stand you! How the hell did I fall for _you_?”

Kakashi hops off the bed. “You’ve never told me,” he says breezily. “For all I know, you just wanted me for my body.”

“ _What—”_

“You did admit I was your long-time crush,” he hedges with a wink. Iruka’s anger is instantly snuffed out and crimson chagrin takes its place. Kakashi watches in fascination; he’s struck truth.

“I’d never say that,” Iruka finally says through gritted teeth.

“You did,” Kakashi preens, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

He watches Iruka struggle for a retort and decides to grant him a break. He picks up the dishes and heads for the kitchen. “Save your energy, Iruka. You’ll need all you can get if you plan to resist lunch.”

* * *

Kakashi wonders if he pushed it too far when Iruka sleeps through the rest of the day and doesn’t wake up until the next evening. He keeps his distance from the bedroom and lets Iruka marinate in his own imagination, surrounded by the false evidence of their affair.


	2. So Fucking Easy

“I was curious what would happen.”

—Hannibal Lecter, _Hannibal_

Tenzou hands over the scroll, frowning. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Are you objecting?” Kakashi asks coolly.

“To your doing it,” Tenzou clarifies. “Why not another ANBU? Or Gai? Any jounin would be capable.”

Kakashi hardens his gaze and looks away. “It’s personal.”

“Only because you’re choosing to make it personal.”

“Tenzou.”

“Any one of us would gladly do it. Mission aside, shouldn’t you be with Iruka-sensei right now?”

“You’re the one keeping me here,” Kakashi points out. “Otherwise I would be.”

Tenzou’s eyes briefly widen. The hint of a smile twists his lips. “Ah. Well, I tried. Give my best to Iruka-sensei, senpai.”

“Sure.” Kakashi tucks the scroll into his jacket and begins the trek home to Iruka.

“Gai wasn’t exaggerating — you’re in deep. Never thought I’d see the day,” Tenzou calls out. “I’ll send a fruit basket. It’ll complement Genma’s champagne bottle.”

* * *

Leaning on the balcony, Kakashi lets a shuriken dance along his fingers as he absently watches Konoha’s nightlife stir in the cooling evening. The view from the balcony dwarfs the tedious landscape of woods around his compound; he could definitely get used to this.

Behind him, Iruka eventually manages to make it to the kitchen with his clumsy, staggering steps. Kakashi’s impressed he made it so far. He doesn’t expect to be called in to help and so he waits, surreptitiously watching Iruka brace on the counters and pull himself forward to fill a glass of water. Though Iruka’s back is to him, Kakashi can picture his smile of triumph as he sets the glass down and begins his return.

The moment Iruka’s right leg wobbles dangerously and his center of gravity is thrown off, Kakashi vanishes from the balcony and reappears in time to catch Iruka around the waist and steady him, casually throwing out an elbow and knocking Iruka’s hard-earned water off the table. The glass shatters brilliantly, spilling glass and water around their feet.

“You didn’t say you were thirsty,” Kakashi says, a thread of irritation revealing itself.

Iruka braces on his arms and Kakashi can feel his body trembling from fatigue. “I’m not a child, I can get it myself,” he says evenly, pointedly looking away from Kakashi. Through the strands of his messy bun, Kakashi can see the red tips of his ears.

“I’m well aware you’re not a child. I’ve seen the proof.”

“ _Kakashi.”_

“You should’ve asked me.” Iruka doesn’t answer and Kakashi fishes. “You know what your problem is?”

Iruka’s grip turns to iron. “Could it be that my depth perception is gone, my sense of balance is that of a toddler, and I can’t get a fucking glass of water on my own?” Iruka asks pleasantly, an undercurrent of anger rising. “ _Maybe_ it’s that I’ve lost two years of my life and I don’t know if I’ll ever regain my memories? Or that I’m suddenly in a committed relationship? Or, could it be that there’s shinobi I don’t remember seeing for the last time? That there are moments with Naruto I’ll never get back and I can’t even regret their absence? Or that—”

Kakashi grimaces. He draws Iruka into a hug and pushes Iruka’s face into his shoulder, effectively shutting him up. Iruka stiffens for a few seconds before melting into the embrace, both hands clutching Kakashi’s flak jacket as he sucks in deep, shuddering breaths. Kakashi rests his chin on the top of Iruka’s head, pleased beyond measure.

“Stop,” he says firmly. “Breathe.”

“Trying to,” Iruka mutters, muffled by Kakashi’s chest.

Kakashi eases up and lets his hand drift to Iruka’s nape, his thumb swiping soothingly. “It’s only been a few days, we don’t know what this’ll look like long-term. Worry about it later — right now you need to rest.”

“Easier said than done. Worrying is my job.”

“To start, you could tell me when you’re thirsty.”

“Nice segue,” Iruka deflects.

“Your pride is misplaced, Iruka.”

“Are you my psychiatrist as well as my carer now?” Iruka says, the barb softer than Kakashi thinks is intended.

“I’m whatever you need me to be. And if that means being an asshole, I will.”

“How generous of you.”

“But you have to learn to rely on me, even if you don’t want to or remember why.”

Iruka lapses into a pensive silence. “Aren’t you upset I’ve forgotten our history? In your shoes, I would be. I think.”

“I am,” Kakashi says idly, sketching a sentimental response, “but unless someone creates a time-warp jutsu, I don’t see the point in being upset. Rather, I’m happy lost memories are the worst of it. We can always make more.”

“That’s a positive outlook.”

“Anything’s a positive if the alternative is being dead. That’s my philosophy.”

“Fitting.” Another long stretch of silence and Iruka relaxes further in Kakashi’s arms. “You know, you can be a sanctimonious ass, but you can have your moments,” Iruka says, a hint of a smile in his tone. “I’m surprised. I’ll have to give myself _—my whole self—_ credit for seeing that.”

“Don’t give him too much,” Kakashi snorts.

“What?” Iruka pulls back, confusion wrinkling his brow. “What do you mean?”

Kakashi grins and shakes his head. “I’ll tell you one day. First, let’s get you back to bed.” He opens his arms. “Wait,” he says almost as an afterthought, “don’t move—”

“Ow! Oh shit.”

“—there’s glass,” Kakashi finishes.

Iruka holds onto Kakashi’s shoulder and raises his foot. Blood drips down from the sizable shard of glass embedded in the middle of his foot.

“Fuck, that’s deep,” Iruka breathes.

“You can’t walk on that.” Kakashi doesn’t offer an alternative route.

Iruka chews on his bottom lip. “Can you get the med kit? I’ll need to stitch this up.”

Smoothly and not without frustration, Kakashi ducks and scoops Iruka into his arms.

Iruka squawks in surprise and squirms. _“O-oi!”_

“Careful, I’ll drop you,” Kakashi threatens as he carries Iruka to the living room and deposits him onto the couch in front of the coffee table.

“Maybe a warning next time!” Iruka hisses, glaring as Kakashi retrieves the med kit.

“You didn’t complain last time.”

Iruka’s cheeks burn red.

* * *

“Ouch. I take it back, you’re completely an ass.”

Kakashi squeezes again and finishes winding a bandage around the foot resting in his lap. “Sure, but you like it,” he says under his breath, feigning intense focus on tucking the end of the bandage in. At Iruka’s lack of denial, Kakashi smirks. _So fucking easy._

“There.”

Iruka inspects the wrapping. “Oh, this is well done. Thank you.”

Kakashi closes the medkit and places it on the coffee table. He studies his own scarred hand. “Just returning the favor.”

“Hm?”

“I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve patched me up after a difficult mission. It’s about time I start pulling my weight,” he says lightly.

Iruka blinks at him curiously and his face softens. “Did that happen often?”

“More than we’d both like.”

“Why didn’t you go to a hospital instead? Seems like the smarter thing to do, O wise jounin.”

Kakashi thinks for a moment and holds Iruka’s ankle in a loose grip. “You would complain, but you wouldn’t send me away. I think you knew I didn’t want to be alone in a hospital room.”

Iruka fidgets in his grasp but stays put. “...did you visit me? In the hospital?”

“Not at all,” Kakashi says purposefully. He refrains from grinning at Iruka’s openly hurt expression and reaches over and flicks Iruka’s forehead. _“I’m joking._ Every day. The staff tried to ban me after a while but I was stubborn. Learned from the best.”

A wide smile splits Iruka’s face and he glances away.

* * *

The next day, Kakashi hands Iruka a towel and a pair of sweatpants. “How about cracking your skull open again and knocking off a few more years?”

Iruka huffs and places the bundle on the sink. “Now who’s being dramatic?”

“Preventative,” Kakashi corrects. “How’s the foot?”

“It stopped bleeding. Besides, it’d be hard to crack anything open when I'm sitting.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

Iruka switches the shower on and tests the water. “You’ve said that enough times that I’m beginning to think you’re lying, _Kakashi.”_ He shoots Kakashi a sly look.

Kakashi raises an eyebrow. “You have a trio of freckles beneath your right ass cheek. You have a birthmark over your hip bone. You like it when I—”

“ _You’ve made your point,”_ Iruka says loudly. “I brought that on myself. I’ll call if I need help.”

“You did,” Kakashi says cheerfully. “Dinner should be ready soon.”

Iruka nods and slowly shuts Kakashi out, his hesitation not going unnoticed. On his way to the kitchen, Kakashi tosses a pair of clean boxers into the laundry hamper.

Approximately twenty minutes later, a tentative “Kakashi?” summons Kakashi to the bathroom door.

Iruka shuffles out into the hallway wearing a different loose shirt and sweatpants low on his hips. His damp hair frames his face nicely and Kakashi contemplates asking Iruka to wear it down all the time. Better yet, convincing him that’s what he always did.

Iruka smiles apologetically. “Help me to the table?”

Kakashi proffers his arm and matches Iruka’s slow walk. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better, now that I’ve showered. Feeling more and more like myself.”

“Give it another day.”

“What’s for dinner?”

“Just something easy. Sukiyaki.”

“Oh, sukiyaki’s my favorite.”

“I know,” Kakashi says easily. How fortunate he decided against shabu-shabu.

Reaching his chair, Iruka braces on the back and frowns as he tightens the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “You think I’ve lost weight? They keep sliding down…”

Kakashi peers down and tugs at the waistband, his thumb caressing Iruka’s hip bone. “Those are mine.”

Iruka reflexively twitches and pinkens. “What? Are they?”

“Do you want me to grab another pair so you can switch?”

“Ah, no, it’s fine.”

Kakashi tugs again, impatiently. “Give them to me and I’ll swap them, it’s not a problem.”

“Kakashi, I’m not wearing anything underneath,” Iruka gulps.

Kakashi deliberately blinks and keeps his face blank. “Do...do you want me to jerk you off?” He looks at the kitchen table. “Here?”

Iruka explodes. _“I didn’t mean it like that!”_

“ _How the hell else am I supposed to take that?”_

“ _Why would you even go there?!”_

“I’m a man, I get it!”

Iruka hides his face behind his hands.

“It’s fine,” Kakashi continues, “I don’t mind giving you a hand.”

Iruka takes a deep, forceful breath and emerges from behind his hands. “I’m loath to admit, that’s not what I would’ve expected. You don’t seem the type.”

Kakashi is caught off-guard. “You think I’d refuse? Be selfish?”

“Didn’t imagine either scenario,” Iruka says defensively. “You’ve always seemed closed-off. I’m still surprised I took the risk in dating you.”

Kakashi’s eyes narrow dangerously; the atmosphere thickens and Iruka looks confused. “Define risk.”

Iruka picks at his sweatpants. “Like I said, you’ve always given off an air of being dispassionate, untouchable. The kind of person someone could imagine loving only to be broken-hearted in the end and you cold. Unaffected.”

Kakashi advances on Iruka slowly. “Is that so? You don’t seem like the type to commit, yourself.” He corners Iruka against the table and cages him in with his arms on either side of Iruka’s body. He stares straight into Iruka’s eyes, all pretenses dropping.

“Kakashi—?”

“In fact, I’d wager that you would be the type to indulge in a risk, to seduce someone and then run away without an explanation.” Kakashi grinds his teeth.

“That sounds oddly specific…” Iruka’s eyes slit. “If I did that, it must’ve been for good reason.”

Kakashi nearly growls and he leans in, inches from Iruka’s scowling face. “Good reason? You’re full of shit. You knew what you were doing.”

“Clearly, enough to know it needed to stop,” Iruka hisses back. “Maybe it was smart of me to run for the hills, knowing who you are.”

“Try running away again,” Kakashi goads. Instead of letting Iruka go, he kisses him hard.

One hand braced on the table and one hand cupping the back of Iruka’s skull, Kakashi doesn’t break for breath until Iruka is moving against him, kissing back just as hard and as bruising. Oddly, he can taste vodka deep in Iruka’s mouth, can feel cold winter air biting at exposed skin, brickwork pressing into his spine as Iruka’s hands dig into his jacket collar and yank him closer.

He eventually does pull away and Iruka lets him go. Their combined heavy breathing fills the silence as Kakashi meets Iruka’s heavy-lidded gaze. Kakashi wipes the corner of his mouth with the edge of his palm.

“Are we always like that?” Iruka asks, his voice hoarse.

“What?”

“So intense.”

“We can be.”

Iruka’s lips twitch. “Often, then.”

“We find conducive ways to blow off the steam,” Kakashi says with a leer.

Iruka laughs and makes a soft, pained noise, touching his forehead. “Oh, my head is throbbing.”

“You okay?”

“Yes. No.”

“Are you still hungry?”

“Don’t think I can stomach anything. I’m feeling nauseous.”

“We can finish it tomorrow. Go lie down and see if it passes.”

Iruka gives a faint nod and steps away. Immediately he crumples, his knees hitting the ground before Kakashi manages to catch him by the biceps.

“Oi—”

“Augh, my balance is off,” Iruka moans, his head lolling forwards to bump against Kakashi’s thigh. He shuffles and looks up, hazily meeting Kakashi’s eyes as the heat of his breath sinks through Kakashi’s skin. “Thanks.”

Kakashi stays perfectly still. Wordlessly, he gathers Iruka in his arms and whisks him away to the bedroom.

In the faint glow of the streetlight through the bedroom window, Iruka sleeps peacefully. Kakashi hangs off to the side, unable to sleep. The coin glints as he flicks his thumb.

* * *

“Why do I keep finding your clothes everywhere?” Iruka grumbles, locating the sock Kakashi planted beside a bookcase. He throws it into the pile of dirty clothes he’s collecting and wanders into the kitchen with careful, measured steps.

Kakashi pops another dumpling into his mouth and notes Iruka’s disinterest in separating clothes. He swallows. “No idea.”

“We have a hamper for a reason,” Iruka continues. “Would it kill you to use it?”

“I may have gotten lax when you while you were in the hospital,” Kakashi admits with an air of guilt.

“There’s no excuse for forgoing proper etiquette.” Iruka sneaks a glance at him and turns back to the sink. “Regardless, I’m positive I would’ve complained about it.”

“You did, and I vividly remember the lesson.”

Iruka pauses and eyes Kakashi over his shoulder. “What did I do?”

Kakashi thinks quickly. “You doused my clothes with itching powder. Even my mission back-ups. I itched for _weeks._ ”

“Oh my.” Iruka laughs. “Sounds absolutely horrible.”

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” Kakashi scolds. “I was ready to strangle you.”

Iruka’s eyes twinkle. “Like you could. Itching powder wouldn’t be the worst of it.” Another peal of laughter escapes.

“I vowed to get my revenge. Watch yourself.” Kakashi polishes off the last dumpling.

Iruka crosses his arms and smiles threateningly. “Kakashi, I promise you, you don’t want to go there.”

* * *

Kakashi shuts the water off and scrubs at his hair with one of Iruka’s soft towels. He dries himself perfunctorily and pulls on a pair of boxer briefs. Semi-dry and perfectly coherent, he drapes the towel over his head and saunters out of the bathroom, his gait quickly switching to a lazy trudge as he enters the kitchen, Iruka’s back to him.

Catching whiffs of something tasty, Kakashi slips his hands beneath Iruka’s shirt and splays them across Iruka’s abdomen and chest, fingers dangerously close to Iruka’s nipples. He presses his lips to the side of Iruka’s neck and nibbles hungrily.

“Kakashi, I — _oh!”_

“G’morning,” he mumbles, deceptively sleepy. “Smells good.” His thumb unerringly finds Iruka’s left nipple and he traces a circle around it. Half-hard in his boxers, he grinds against the cleft of Iruka’s ass.

“Kakashi, h-hold on, wai—”

As if waking up and realizing, Kakashi hauls backwards. “ _Oh_ , oh shit. Fuck, I’m sorry, Iruka.” He scrubs at his face with both hands. “I didn’t mean...shit. Ignore that.”

Beet red and blinking furiously, Iruka touches the spot Kakashi had been kissing. “I, uh, was making breakfast,” he says breathlessly. His eyes drift down and stay there and Kakashi feels a flush of cockiness and makes no move to hide himself; if anything, he widens his stance a degree.

“Right. Sorry,” Kakashi mutters. He continues drying his hair, giving Iruka plenty of time to ogle.

“...you should get dressed.”

Kakashi rolls his eyes. “Right.” He tosses the towel into the laundry hamper and heads for the bedroom. Oddly, Iruka follows him after a few steps. Kakashi feigns ignorance and fishes through the drawer he commandeered, tugging out one of his more casual uniform iterations. Iruka finally speaks as he’s zipping up his pants.

“Kakashi, I think we should talk.”

Unable to fully parse Iruka’s tone, Kakashi faces him. “If this is about—”

“It is and isn’t. Just—” Iruka takes a deep breath, his fingers still drawing across the patch of skin Kakashi is sure is beginning to bruise. “I think I’ve been a little unfair to you.”

“I agree. Go on.”

“ _Shut up_. I’m being serious.”

Entirely curious, Kakashi drops down on the edge of the bed. “I’m listening.”

Iruka leans on the dresser in front of him and crosses his arms, looking every inch the reprimanding teacher Kakashi knows he is. “I haven’t been honest with you about how I feel, and I owe it to you that I should. First and foremost, I know you’ve avoided asking me, but I haven’t remembered anything about our relationship. In some ways, you’re virtually still a stranger.”

“Iruka, you don’t—”

“I said _shut up,”_ Iruka growls and Kakashi obeys. “Although I can’t remember you, it’s as if my body remembers in lieu of my mind. So, uh, I don’t mind _that._ I actually like you. A lot.” Iruka confesses, staunchly refusing to look at Kakashi. “But I’m still unsure about a lot of things and I don’t know what to do.”

Kakashi’s heart beats steadily, a powerful drum in his ears. “What would you like to do?”

“Right now?” Iruka’s eyes slide over to Kakashi. “Kiss you.”

“Then kiss me.”

Iruka’s kiss is a slow, languid exploration of Kakashi’s mouth, his palms coming up to cup Kakashi’s cheeks and trace his jaw. Kakashi’s hands lock around Iruka’s hips and he tilts his head back and allows Iruka to sink deeper, tasting whatever syrupy sweet pastry Iruka had been eating. His cock stirs as Iruka gently bites his lower lip and dips back in to savor Kakashi’s mouth with demanding sweeps of his tongue.

Kakashi brazenly palms Iruka’s ass, squeezes, and waits for Iruka to cut him off. Instead, Iruka hums, murmuring approval against Kakashi’s lips. Swallowing heavily, Kakashi tugs and coaxes Iruka into straddling his lap, immediately regretting putting on pants. His hands return to Iruka’s hips and guide him into a gentle rock, grinding the unmistakable shape of Iruka’s cock against his stomach, his own cock nestled below Iruka’s ass.

“How’re those unsure feelings doing?” he grunts, dragging his lips down to Iruka’s chin and further down to his Adam’s apple, sucking and biting.

“Getting louder,” Iruka groans, his fingers carding through Kakashi’s hair and tugging. “Kakashi I—”

“Let me know when they shut up.” Twisting smoothly, Kakashi presses Iruka into the mattress and rises on all fours, Iruka pinned beneath him. He dives down to steal a kiss and nearly bites Iruka’s hand as it blocks his mouth.

“They’re at full force,” Iruka gulps with an apologetic grimace. “Sorry.”

Kakashi doesn’t move for a moment, weighing the consequences of several options, not all of them pleasant. He nips Iruka’s palm and awkwardly backs off the bed. He finds a little vindication in that Iruka looks as uncomfortable as he feels.

The tension in Iruka’s body relaxes a degree and he drags his palms down his face. “Did I actually run away?”

“Left me in a similar state,” Kakashi sighs, adjusting himself. “I’m going to need another shower.”

* * *

Kakashi jackknifes upright and silently throws himself off the sofa, all vestiges of sleep gone in a fraction of second. A kunai slides into his palm and he prepares to gather chakra.

The noise comes again.

“Kakashi? Are you awake?” Iruka’s whispered call floats down the hallway.

“ _Fuck._ ” Kakashi drops his stance and scrubs at the stubble on his jaw. “Gods, Iruka, I thought...nevermind. I’m awake now,” he grumbles. He drops back on the sofa and irritably wonders why he’s awake at two in the morning. While he might be growing more affectionate towards Iruka, he isn’t—

“Oh, I woke you. I’m sorry.” Footsteps pad into the living room and Kakashi glances towards their general vicinity.

“No you’re not,” Kakashi dismisses.

“No, I’m not.”

“Glad we’ve sorted that out. Why am I awake?”

“Not a morning person? I’m shocked.” The smile in Iruka’s voice tempts Kakashi into one of his own.

“Iruka,” Kakashi starts dangerously.

“You asked me to rely on you; I’m taking you up on that offer.”

The sofa dips and very faintly Kakashi can see an Iruka-shaped blob sitting down. “What happened?” Kakashi asks, his interest piqued.

“A nightmare or a flashback — I’m not sure which.” Iruka draws his feet up on the sofa and rests his arms on his knees. “Either way, it wasn’t pleasant.”

“And now you can’t sleep?”

“I’m tired enough to sleep. I’m just afraid to.”

“Talking about it might make it worse,” Kakashi says carefully, uninterested.

“Good thing I’m not looking to do that.”

Kakashi feels a small wave of relief. “In that case, what do you want?”

Iruka pauses for a moment. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to be alone.”

“C’mere.” Kakashi pats his side of the sofa.

“What?” Confusion, and then irritation. “I’m not looking for a pity fuck, Ka—”

Kakashi sighs in exasperation and reaches blindly towards Iruka. “I swear, you live to piss me off,” he grunts. “So goddamn stubborn.”

He finds Iruka’s arm and hauls him closer so that he’s draped over Kakashi’s body, his head perfectly cushioned on Kakashi’s bare sternum and the rest of his body nestled between Kakashi’s legs. Absently, Kakashi knows the bent leg pinned between the back of the sofa and Iruka’s side will be dead when he wakes up.

“I could say the same,” Iruka snips back, settling in cozily, his breath ghosting across Kakashi’s skin. “I bet I have.”

Kakashi valiantly ignores the sensation and buries his hand in Iruka’s hair, pressing Iruka more firmly against him. “We’ve lost score.”

“You might’ve. I’m keeping tabs.”

“Why am I not surprised.”

Iruka lapses into a comfortable silence and Kakashi can feel his breathing ease. A while later, fingers prod into his side and slide up along his ribs, tracing the lines of his muscles. Iruka starts to fidget and Kakashi’s exposed eye pops open.

“That’s called molesting, you know,” Kakashi says with a careful amount of drowsiness. He winces at the harsh pinch near his hip. “Ow.”

“I thought you were sleeping,” Iruka whispers without a hint of remorse. “Your heartbeat is too slow.”

“That’s your excuse?” He feels Iruka shrug. “I thought you were tired.”

“I was. Now I’m not.”

“That makes one of us. Either knock it off or reach lower.”

“How romantic,” Iruka coos mockingly. “You have such a way with words.”

“Says more about you than me,” Kakashi says with a smirk.

“I suppose it does,” Iruka says thoughtfully. His fingers restart their exploration and Kakashi wants to throw Iruka out the window; that, or christen the sofa. “I’ve been meaning to ask you — how long have you liked me?”

“Since the chuunin exam admissions debacle,” Kakashi answers truthfully.

“ _Really?_ That’s when? Seriously?”

“You made an impression.”

“A terrible one.” Iruka squirms. “I don’t regret standing up, but I regret the embarrassment it must’ve caused the Sandaime.”

“Probably the worst embarrassment of his life. It’s a miracle he recovered.”

“Ass.”

“My turn — what’s the last thing you remember between us?”

Iruka’s fingers find Kakashi’s boxers and trace the waistband, more idle than seductive. “You were trying to turn in a half-assed mission report and I wouldn’t take it. You even came down to the Academy to argue.”

“That was a bad day.”

“You got me kicked out for yelling,” Iruka accuses, raising his head.

“I wasn’t the one yelling, sensei.”

“Oh, don’t start. You caused it.”

“Maybe. You escalated it.” Kakashi braces himself for Iruka’s temper to rear its head, but Iruka’s body deflates.

“Ugh. I know.” Iruka’s head drops back down and his lips brush Kakashi’s left pec. “I can’t help it. You get under my skin too easily. I have heard talk about my temper...”

“I don’t mind.”

“At this point, I’d hope not.”

“You know what that means, right?”

“Hm?”

“That means you're stuck with me. Who else is going to put up with you?” Kakashi says lightheartedly, obscuring the barb of his words.

“Says more about you than me,” Iruka laughs. “I guess I don’t mind either.”

* * *

As the sky begins to brighten, Kakashi slips out from beneath Iruka. Immediately, Iruka settles into the warmth left behind by his body with a mumble and Kakashi’s lips twitch. He drapes his flak jacket over Iruka’s shoulders.

Strapping on his ANBU gear, Kakashi loudly dumps a rucksack of weapons and supplies onto the kitchen table, startling Iruka awake. From the corner of his eye, Kakashi spies Iruka glancing around for him, spotting him, and staring.

Kakashi turns halfway towards him, an apologetic grimace on his face. “Did I wake you up? Sorry.”

Iruka takes a moment to respond, blinking at him a few times. “You’re ANBU?”

Kakashi nods once.

Iruka’s gaze lands on the rucksack. “And you’re leaving?”

“The mission is for a couple of weeks, but it’s situation-dependent. I may be gone longer.” Kakashi places his mission scroll on the table and snaps on his weapons pouch. “I leave in an hour.”

Iruka clutches the jacket and stands. “They barely gave you any notice,” he protests.

“I’ve been waiting for this missive for some time,” Kakashi says with an edge. He retrieves his ANBU mask from the box hidden in the bedroom and returns, coming to a stop as he sees Iruka reading the mission scroll. His fabric mask perfectly hides the cruel twist to his lips.

“You’re going after the rogue nins that attacked me?” Iruka asks, his eyes wide. The edges of the scroll crinkle in his hands as he reaches the bottom. “Tsunade okayed this?”

“Parts of it.”

“Why?”

“Why? What do you mean, why? They hur—”

“Tsunade should send someone else.” Iruka swiftly rolls up the scroll and squeezes it. “Plenty of jounin are available.”

“This isn’t a jounin-rank mission.”

“Then get another damn ANBU. Anyone else.”

“Iruka.” Kakashi holds out his hand. “Give me the scroll.”

Iruka holds it away. “Kakashi, this is by far the stupidest thing I think you’ve— no, that I know you’ve done. How could you ask for this mission?” Iruka’s face is heartbreakingly concerned, raw fear clouding his eyes.

“I’m doing this for you.”

“When did I ask you to go after the rogue nins?!”

Eagerly, Kakashi rounds on Iruka, goading him on. “What do you expect me to do? Just let it slide? Iruka, you should’ve seen yourself. I can’t get it out of my head. I can’t let that go.”

“And what do you think I’m picturing now?” Iruka shudders. “You shouldn’t...you can’t…”

Kakashi waits for a moment, letting the tension build and savoring Iruka’s distress. “Tell me not to go, and I won’t,” he says softly.

Iruka’s dark eyes flicker to his but he doesn’t respond.

“Say the words. It’s up to you.”

“Don’t go.” Iruka breaks, dropping the scroll. “ _Don’t leave, stay here._ ”

Kakashi yanks off his ANBU gear and stalks towards Iruka, capturing him in a feverish, hard kiss and pushing him backwards towards the sofa.

* * *

“It was snowing that night,” Iruka says softly, a faraway look in his eyes. “In the alleyway.”

Kakashi’s eyes cut to Iruka. “You remember?”

“I think so?” Iruka’s face scrunches. “It’s bits and pieces, more blurry than anything, almost like a dream. But I know it’s real.” Iruka meets his gaze, revealing a deepening pit of uncertainty. “Right?”

Kakashi cups Iruka’s cheek and his thumb brushes along Iruka’s scar. He offers Iruka a perfectly gentle smile that falls away the moment Iruka’s eyes close. “It’s real,” he assures him, looking past Iruka. “Trust me. I’ll tell you when it’s not.”

_**TBC** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh :D


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